


The Warrior

by RS_Games



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Ancient Rome, Angst, Community: rs_games, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, R/S Games 2016, Roman Britain, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-14
Updated: 2016-10-14
Packaged: 2018-08-22 08:17:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8279168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RS_Games/pseuds/RS_Games
Summary: R/S Games 2016 - Day 10 - Team TimeWhen Sirius receives a prophecy everything changes.(by olivier_dathos)





	

**Author's Note:**

> **Author:** [olivier_dathos](http://olivier-dathos.livejournal.com/)  
>  **Team:** Time  
>  **Title:** The Warrior  
>  **Rating:** PG  
>  **Genres:** Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff/Romance, AU  
>  **Word Count:** 9900  
>  **Summary:** When Sirius receives a prophecy everything changes.  
>  **Notes:** Please forgive time/place inappropriate canon names and completely fictionalised history of actual Celtic tribes. Inspiration drawn from Boudicea, the Battle of Teutoburg Forest and Othello.  
>  **Prompt:** #52 - "Fate whispers to the warrior, 'You cannot withstand the storm'. And the warrior whispers back, 'I am the storm'." - Unknown

Sirius was eight years old when he first visited Ynys Môn. 

His parents hadn’t wanted him to go of course, but even they recognised the benefits that an early friendship with the Potter heir could bring to their family. James’ father had requested Sirius’ presence personally and Sirius had seen the warring disapproval and satisfaction on his parents’ faces when the man had left and their masks had finally dropped.

And although he knew that he should have been thinking about how this could benefit his family and their influence in the tribe, all he could think about was how maybe after this the children wouldn’t avoid him on the streets. Maybe after this, when he played with James in the fields they wouldn’t have to worry about the taunts of those who said he was different. That he didn’t really belong.

“Just remember,” his father had said on the morning of what was to be Sirius’ first great adventure, hand grasping his shoulder perhaps just a little too tightly, “These are not your people. No matter how much he may mean to you Sirius, James is not from your world and you must be careful.”

Sirius knew what he really meant, even then. It was never really about Sirius. It was about being a part of a noble Roman family living in one of the remotest colonies on the outskirts of the Empire. It was about staying above and aloof and never forgetting that they were _better_ than people like James. 

Better than barbarians.

Sirius had pretended to listen, had already been imagining the first feat of bravery that was no doubt awaiting him just around the bend, had recognised the apprehension in his father’s voice for what it really was: the fear that Sirius would prove disappointing in the opportunity they had been given.

The trip cemented what had been a budding friendship into a brotherhood and when the company finally reached the island of Ynys Môn, Sirius had almost forgotten why they had left their familiar lands in the first place.

“It’ll be three days.” James said apologetically, the symbolic clothes he was wearing looking strange and out of place after the ragged tunics they had dirtied in their travels. “There’s the prophecy and the rituals. The ceremony.”

“And I can’t come for any of it?” Sirius asked, though he already knew the answer.

James shook his head. “You’re not ……..,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

Sirius let him go and felt lonelier than he ever had in all the days of his short life.

The island was beautiful and terrifying at the same time and Sirius wished that he had someone to share his experiences; to share in the way the druids seemed to just materialise from the shadowy depths of the groves and into the light of the setting sun when Sirius sat in the trees and watched.

He was sure they knew he was there, the druids, but none of them ever acknowledged him…until suddenly one of them did.

It was the final evening before James returned from wherever it was that he had gone, and Sirius had needed to get away from the mostly empty camp, feeling alone and different from the people he had thought were finally accepting him. Even Peter had been gone.

He knew it was naïve to assume he was alone in the forests, but he had still jumped when a grey haired man had appeared suddenly in a clearing before him.

They stood there watching each other for a few moments before the druid spoke. 

“You’re not very happy,” he said simply, and took a seat on the fallen leaves at their feet. 

Sirius hesitated but, when the man gestured to the ground with one long-fingered hand, lowered himself carefully down.

“Here,” said the man, holding out a curled, faded leaf so that Sirius could see it by the light of the moon above. “Observe and learn…”

He whispered a gentle word and the leaf began to unfurl slowly before Sirius’ eyes. He shuffled forward instantly, staring intently at the wonder before him.

“How do you do it?” He whispered and reached out a tentative hand. 

The man smiled and tipped the leaf gently onto Sirius’ outstretched palm where it slowly began to curl back in on itself once more. 

“You can learn,” the man replied, “If you have it in you.”

Sirius felt the elation that had briefly stirred inside fade as quickly as it had come. “I won’t,” He said. “I won’t have it in me. I’m a Roman…” And he held the crumpled leaf back out to the druid, already wishing he had never left the camp.

The man didn’t move. 

“You are not a stranger to this place,” he said, “Do you think you would be here if you weren’t meant to be?”

Sirius looked back down at the leaf in his hand and felt that old familiar longing fill him. The longing to be _more_.

“Your friend will be back in the morning,” the druid continued, “And when he is you can show him this and then you will come with me to receive your prophecy.”

Sirius’ head shot up. “My prophecy?” He stammered but even when he saw the druid’s smile he didn’t dare to hope.

“Yes, your prophecy. Now, are you ready to learn?”

Sirius nodded eagerly, pulling the withered leaf back in to his chest as though afraid that the offer would be withdrawn now that he had finally accepted it.

“What’s your name?” The man asked and Sirius hesitated only for a moment.

“Sirius.”

“And I am Aberforth.” He held up another leaf and met Sirius’ eyes with a raised brow. “Let’s begin…”

*

Sirius had been afraid that when James returned he would be somehow different, but he wasn’t. He laughed the same and spoke in the same excited way he always had and when Sirius showed him the way he could brighten the edges of a faded leaf, James expressed awe in all the right places.

At midday, as they were exploring the forest, Aberforth appeared quite once again from between the trees and Sirius could have sworn that his heart skipped a beat when he realised that he was about to receive his own prophecy.

Aberforth led them further into the woods until they reached a deep cave system, a soft silver glow emanating from somewhere deep within which lit James’ face with light as Sirius turned to look at him.

“This is where I went too.” He whispered, and took a step back. “I can't go with you. It's not allowed.”

“He's waiting inside,” Aberforth said, squeezing Sirius’ shoulder reassuringly and Sirius realised very suddenly that he was scared. 

He took one step forward and then turned back around abruptly. “What if I don't have a prophecy? What if you're wrong? What if I'll never be anything other than…” He took a deep breath and released it shakily, “Just a Roman? What if I'm just a Roman?”

“Go on,” Aberforth said gently, “He's waiting for _you_.”

Sirius breathed deeply, remembered all that his father had ever said about strength, and stepped inside the cave.

Instantly he felt the silvery glow embracing him, pulling him onward, dancing where it touched his skin. 

As he walked deeper inside, the cave seemed to widen and the walls became speckled with small, shallow dents. Inside some of them Sirius could see what appeared to be small glass balls and it was these that were filling the cave with its soft glow. 

The number of glowing spheres increased in number the further Sirius walked, and the roof and walls of the cavern lengthened further and further until Sirius felt that he had somehow entered a huge subterranean world. By the time he could make out the back of the cave, he could no longer see the rock high above him and if not for the pinpricks of light that emanated from every corner, he would not have been aware of the walls either.

It took Sirius a few moments to realise that he was no longer alone despite the light around him, or perhaps because of it, but when he did he froze instantly.

The Druid was old, older it seemed than Aberforth, and his white hair and beard fell past his knees. He looked at Sirius with eyes that seemed to pierce right through him.

“You have come for your prophecy,” he said gently and then smiled. “I have one for you, if you would like it?”

Sirius opened his mouth, but couldn’t seem to find the words to answer and shut it again quickly.

“Once I give it, it can’t be taken back,” the Druid continued, taking a step forward and placing a finger to his own forehead. “Do you still want it?”

Sirius nodded jerkily, unable to look away from those piercing blue eyes.

“Well then,” the Druid began, and suddenly a wisp thin sliver of silver began to form where his finger rested against his temple.

As he spoke, the light by his finger grew thicker, stretched and then formed a thin cord. Sirius was so transfixed by it, that he almost missed the words that the man spoke.

“You cannot withstand the storm.”

“What do you mean?” Sirius said sharply, dragging his eyes away from the man’s hands, which were now spinning the cord of light into a tiny, shimmering ball. “What does that mean?”

The Druid looked up, the small orb now hidden in his palm.

“It means what it means, child. You cannot withstand the storm.”

*

Sirius didn’t look for James when he left the cave, and thankfully the other boy was no longer waiting for him by the edge of the forest where the sun was beginning to set.

He found an empty clearing deep in the woods and sat with his back to a tree, a dead leaf in his hand.

No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t make it come back to life.

“I can withstand it,” He muttered, trying to sound determined but feeling a desperation beginning to uncurl deep within his bones. “I can withstand the storm. I can.”

He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to steady his breathing the way Aberforth had taught him. Trying to clear his mind and focus. Trying to forget the words of the prophecy he had wanted so much.

Sirius took a deep breath and looked down at the leaf in his hand once more. “ _Vitae_ ” he whispered…but nothing happened.

And then he began to cry.

“Maybe,” came a soft, hesitant voice from beside him, “Maybe you can make your own fate instead? Have you thought about that?”

The boy crouching in the leaves only a few feet away was small and so insignificant looking that Sirius doubted he ever would have noticed him if he hadn’t spoken. He was painfully thin with tousled brown hair, and looked at Sirius as though afraid he was about to be eaten by him. 

Sirius said nothing and just stared at him.

“What did they tell you?” The boy began again and Sirius _knew_ that his prophecy was supposed to be private and he _knew_ that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone and he _knew_ that he was going to tell this boy anyway.

“I cannot withstand the storm.” He said glumly, and found that he couldn’t meet the other boy’s eyes, a shame filling him as the words left his mouth. “I will never be anything.”

“I’m Remus,” The boy said after a short pause. “I look after the baggage mules for the chief.

“Sirius.” Sirius responded, still unable to look the boy in the eye. “Sirius Black. I don’t do anything really.”

“Perhaps,” Remus said, shuffling a little closer and leaning forward so that he could look into Sirius’ downcast eyes. “Perhaps you shouldn’t let your destiny be controlled by somebody else. Perhaps…” And he hesitated then, but Sirius had already been caught by the warmth in those amber eyes and the strange conviction in that soft voice and found that he couldn’t look away. “Perhaps you _are_ the storm.”

“I am the storm…” Sirius tried, uncertainly.

And when Remus smiled, Sirius smiled too.

*

**Twelve Years Later**

“Higher,” Sirius called, taking a step forward, the balance of the gladius steady in his hand. “Higher!”

The boy clenched his teeth, lifting the shield just in time to meet Sirius’ blow and Sirius danced back again, giving the boy time to regain his stance.

They circled each other, the boy’s gaze wary, Sirius’ assessing. Once the afternoon sun was in Sirius’ eyes, he lowered his shield a little, leaving a gap in his defences for his opponent to exploit.

The child was quick; he struck instantly, but his arm wasn’t quite strong enough and his reach not quite long enough. Sirius skipped away easily and then took a step back.

“Enough, Sean. You did well today.”

“I still can’t move quickly enough,” the boy said disappointedly, wiping the sweat from his brow and looking at Sirius from beneath dark lashes.

Sirius hung his practice weapon back on the rack by the edge of the yard and pulled a clean tunic over his head. “You will.” He said, looking up at the fast-lowering sun to the West. “Trust me, Sean, you're improving every day. You go home to your mother now, OK?”

He ruffled the boy’s hair and left the training grounds at a jog.

He had hoped that James might have come down to the arena that day, if only to take his mind off things. It had been three days since the chief’s passing and although the man had become as close as a father to Sirius over the course of his friendship with James, Sirius honestly didn’t think that he’d be able to bare a visit to the house cloaked so obviously in mourning, and so he had kept away.

It ate at him, to leave James alone, but he honestly didn’t know what to do so he did nothing. 

He made his way quickly through the village and out to the edge of the first wheat fields. They were empty with the onset of evening, but he followed the lane down past the blacksmith’s and behind the village stables.

Remus was brushing down a plough horse, speaking to it softly, but he looked up when Sirius rounded the edge of the building and smiled.

“You said you’d come,” Sirius said, leaning back against the sturdy wood of the stables and watching Remus work. “And don’t deny it because you actually did.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but there was no malice to it, only exasperation, “I work, you know. I can’t just bow to your every whim.”

Sirius snorted. “Sure,” he said, eyes following the line of Remus’ arm as it ran smoothly down the horse’s flank. “But you did say yes, when I mentioned it yesterday. You told me you’d be able to make it.”

Remus raised an expert eyebrow and then dropped the brush on the ground and turned towards him. 

“Is this what you want?” He asked, leaning in so that they were sharing the same air and closing his hands around Sirius’ biceps. “Do you want me to apologise?”

“Mmm, yes,” Sirius sighed, pulling Remus in the rest of the way and catching his lips with his own. Remus was a good kisser, had always been a good kisser from the first time Sirius had cornered him in the abandoned arena way back when they had first begun their training and Sirius had been feeling rebellious and intrigued all at once. And right now the sensation of Remus’ tongue running smoothly along the seam of his lips was exactly what Sirius needed.

He ran his hands up into Remus’ hair, parted his lips a little to let the other man in and pushed his body back hard against Remus’ own, but Remus pulled away only moments later and took a step back.

“How are you doing?” He asked seriously and Sirius groaned.

“I _was_ doing fine until you decided that asking pointless questions was the priority right now.”

But Remus was stepping further away now, picking the brush back up, stroking the horse’s nose affectionately. “I mean it.” He said, looking Sirius in the eye before continuing on grooming the horse where he had left off. “He meant a great deal to you and you haven't talked to me about it yet. Are you alright?”

“I’ll talk to you about it,” Sirius lied, resting his back against the stable wall and looking up at the darkening sky instead of into the warmth of Remus’ eyes. “Later, you know, when I’m ready…Are you coming to the council tonight?”

“Yes,” Remus said, and Sirius could tell by his tone that he wasn’t happy with the topic shift but would go along with it. “Things are going to change you know.”

“James will be chief,” Sirius replied.

The first stars were blinking into life now and Sirius was looking for himself as always. He found the star a reassuring presence, a constant which would outlast everything else.

“That’s not what I mean,” Remus said, twisting his fingers into the horse’s mane and leading it inside the stables.

Sirius kicked off from the wall and followed, trailing his hands over the stall doors as they passed and watching the horses move within. “What _do_ you mean?” He asked.

Remus didn’t reply, laying out hay for the horse and checking the water dishes. When he had finally locked the stall door, he wrapped one long-fingered hand around Sirius’ wrist and led him back outside into the evening.

“You heard what happened to the Deceangli?” 

Sirius nodded, though Remus wasn’t looking at him. “Chief Elisedd left no heir.” He looked around, checking that they were alone, and then pressed Remus back against the wall. “We’re not in that position.”

Remus blinked slowly then turned his head to the side, baring his neck to Sirius’ gaze and Sirius felt his breath catch a little.

“You think that really matters?” Remus asked, his voice a soft murmur in the air. “They’re moving in, Sirius. Every death is an opportunity to ignore the old alliances.” He dropped his head suddenly and ducked out from beneath Sirius’ arm. “We need to go.”

Sirius sighed.

They walked through the streets in silence, but it was enough for Sirius that Remus was by his side, a warm presence which felt just as constant as his namesake above.

The meeting place was well lit and full of conversation by the time they arrived and Sirius took his seat by James’ right side, the place of honour assigned to him as an elite member of the tribe’s warrior group, while Remus faded silently back into the shadows of the crowded room.

He nodded towards Peter who was sitting across from him, dark bags beneath his eyes.

“Sirius,” James whispered from his left, a firm hand grasping his shoulder tightly for a moment before disappearing as quickly as it had come. “I thought you might come by? I was hoping…”

Sirius felt his stomach lurch and bit his lip, already regretting the selfishness of his actions over the last few days. “I’m sorry,” he said, though he knew that didn’t fix anything. “I’m so sorry, James.”

James didn’t answer, but he kicked Sirius’ ankle lightly beneath the table and Sirius knew that he understood. James always understood and he always forgave.

There was a sudden lull in the conversation and James rose from beside him, the collective eyes of the room immediately fixing on him.

“I thank you all for coming tonight. We have reached a moment of change and the proper ways must be observed.” There was a murmur of consent from around the room and James raised his hand for silence once more. “I call upon Aonghus to make public the wishes of the chief, may Hu Gadarn guide him safely to the groves of the underworld.”

A broad-shouldered, dark haired man stood from his position half way down the table and held a sheet of parchment aloft for all to see. “Here are written the last wishes of the chief. He requests a position among the Chiefs long gone in the barrows of the ancestors. Does anyone object to this request?”

The room was still and silent.

“He requests that the old ways be observed in the matter of his burial. Does anyone object to this request?”

Nobody moved.

“He requests that for the safety of the clan, the old alliances be observed and the clan be guided into the future through a joint partnership between his son, the rightful chief, and the benevolent Empire of Rome. Does anyone object to this request?”

There was a sudden murmuring from around the room and Sirius looked up form beneath his lashes, but didn’t move. It was important that he support James in every matter now, his father’s will being only the first.

“I wish to speak,” said a man standing to Sirius’ right and Aonghus nodded, taking his own seat once more. “We have all heard the stories.” The man began, “We have heard of the Roman armies moving further into clan territories. We have heard of the Brigantes who withdrew their alliance and had the might of Rome turned against them. We have heard of the Deceangli who had no heir and now have a Roman governor. We have heard of the Bibroci whose chieftain died and the next week had been conquered by force regardless of their alliance with the Romans. Until now we have kept our autonomy, we have kept our lands. But now we are going to willingly offer the Empire a joint role in the leadership of our tribe? Is this wise?

People were nodding around the room and Sirius felt more than a few eyes resting distrustfully on his own face, but he did not move even when James stood again. _I am the storm_ he thought calmly and looked back at the faces around him, challenging them to say something.

“I do not see that we have much choice,” James said levelly, looking around the room to be sure that everyone was listening. “My father worked hard to keep our alliance with Rome and we have enjoyed the benefits. Any other approach could be seen as a challenge…or an opportunity. We must remain the masters of our own fates, but we must also be careful that we do so in a way that will not invite the destruction of the Atrebates as a people. The reach of Rome grows stronger and we must be careful.”

Sirius found his eyes searching out Remus amongst the crowd, but he could not find him. The entire conversation was making Sirius’ nerves stand on end and he wished that he could take James aside and ask him personally whether he really thought conceding so much was a good idea. He wished that he had listened to Remus’ concerns with greater attention earlier.

However, after James’ words, there seemed to be little for the council to do but accede to the late chief’s requests and it was without challenge that James took on the mantle of chief of the Atrebates, the position he had been prepared for since birth.

It wasn’t until the room had all but emptied and the voices of the tribe were nothing more than faint murmurs in the streets of the village that Remus came forward and took a seat at the table. Sirius wanted to touch him desperately, just for reassurance, but it wasn’t the time and it wasn’t the place.

“What do you think?” James asked, looking around at them all and Peter, who had also remained, smiled tightly.

“Honestly, it’s the best option we have.” He sighed and Sirius didn’t envy him in that moment. Peter had been responsible for maintaining the majority of their political ties and alliances since the death of his father the year before and a change in leadership could hardly be an easy time for him.

“You’re going to be an amazing chieftain,” Remus said and the smile James turned on him was only a little sad. “But it’s time for you to go home to Lily and Harry and to sleep because who knows what tomorrow will bring.”

He sounded calm, but Sirius could see the tightness around his eyes and he realised only then that Remus wasn’t simply worried about what the death of James’ father might mean: he was afraid.

“Aonghus will leave in the morning with thirty of the old guard to visit the Roman Governor in Veralamium and to tell him of the wishes of the tribe. We hope that they will be honoured by your father’s request,” Peter said, turning to James, and the other man nodded and then looked in turn to Sirius.

“You’ve been very quiet,” he said, an eyebrow raised. “Don’t tell me you’ve finally run out of chatter? I’ve been waiting years…”

Sirius smiled, but it felt stretched. Too tight and too forced. “Do you really think that handing over more power to the Romans is the right direction to take? I understand the reasoning,” he added, cutting Peter off before he could start, “I really do. But I wonder what liberties they may expect to be able to take.”

“The Romans are reasonable,” James said, “Your own family are evidence of that.” Sirius snorted, but James ignored him. “They will be honoured, as Peter says.”

Sirius sighed and then stood from his chair. “I need to head home,” he said and then sent James a quick smile. “Give my love to Lily and Harry and tell them I’ll drop by tomorrow.” He nodded at Peter, sent Remus a significant look, and then left the meeting house.

Remus caught up to him on the old road out of town, paved with slate and leading to only one residence: the Black villa.

“Why can’t I move out and live with you again?” Sirius asked as the evening air flicked Remus’ hair in front of his eyes. “I’d be happier. Would you be happier?”

“It’s going to be alright.” Remus said and he let Sirius hold his hand right up until the last bend in the road and then kissed him before walking back off into the darkness.

*

“Last night? They held the council last night and nobody thought to tell us?” Sirius’ father asked angrily and Sirius rolled his eyes.

“Perhaps, father, if you actually paid attention to something other than which fashions are the latest trend in Rome for once…”

“Don’t give me that antagonistic crap, Sirius. I’ve been stationed here as envoy to Rome for the past twenty years and I should have been told there was to be a council. _You_ should have told me there was to be a council.”

“I don’t actually see how it affects you anyway,” Sirius replied, drizzling oil over his bread and marvelling with faint annoyance at the fact that he couldn't even eat breakfast in this house without having to be reminded of Rome. “They handled the situation in their way, in the old ways. Aonghus has gone to Veralamium to notify anyone who’s interested and that’s the end of it.”

“Doesn’t affect me? I need to be allowed to do my job, Sirius!” His father seethed.

“Oh, so this is about how it might reflect on _you_? Naturally.” Sirius returned, taking another bite of bread. “For a moment there I thought you might actually care about the people.”

Sirius’ father sighed and ran a hand distractedly through his greying hair, eyeing Sirius with a resignation that he had become used to seeing directed at him over the course of his life. “Obviously you always know best, Sirius, but has it ever occurred to you that this would have been the opportune moment for the Atrebates to join the Empire officially? To become a fully governed province of Rome and reap the benefits that come with that?”

“You disgust me,” Sirius said, pushing his plate away and standing to go. “I can’t believe some of the things that come out of your mouth. You’re always asking why I can’t show pride in my heritage, well there’s the reason why. Would it make you look good, is that it? A success after all this time amongst the barbarians? Or do you just enjoy destroying whatever you touch?”

“I enjoy peace!” Sirius’ father roared, standing also and slamming his plate down so that it shattered by Sirius’ feet. “Are you so naïve? Can you not read the signs? Rome will win, Sirius, and it will either be through force or through friendship. These tribes can no longer have it both ways and you can be certain that Rome is watching and Rome is waiting. Tell yourself whatever lies you like, but the legions are on the move and those who do not integrate into the Empire can not last much longer. The might of Rome cannot be withstood.”

Sirius ignored him and stepped around the mess on the floor, heading for the doorway, but the words hung in the air, burying themselves like shards of glass into Sirius’ brain and all he could hear was a whisper from all those years ago.

 _You cannot withstand the storm_.

“Where are you going?” His father demanded, and Sirius hated that he still paused by the doorway at the commanding tone in the older man’s voice.

“I have duties in the village.”

“You have duties _here_! You are the heir to _this_ house, Sirius, and I have let you have your friends and your fights and your freedom. I have let you play your games long enough and you can not keep spitting it all back in my face!”

Sirius whipped around, his heart hammering in his chest and his teeth clenched. “These are not games, _father_. I did the training and I completed the rituals and this _is_ the path I have chosen. I’m a warrior of the Atrebates and I am James’ friend and _those_ are my duties now. Not marrying the Roman girl you keep harping on about. Not leaving for the capital to aim for a position in the senate. Regulus can continue to be your perfect little puppet, but not me.”

He left then and when he passed Regulus outside the door he ignored the hand held up to stop him and did not look back.

*

It took fourteen days for the news to get back to the village.

There had been a fight in Veralamium. A Roman soldier had raped one of the women who had accompanied the Atrebates envoy and the revenge of the Atrebates had been swift and deadly. The revenge of the Roman governor Lucius had been swifter and deadlier. Not a single member of the thirty old guard would be returning home.

“They say,” said the trader who had carried the news with him to the hurriedly assembled emergency council, “They say that your warrior looked right in the governor’s face and told him that the Atrebates would never share their chieftaincy with Roman snakes. And the governor, he laughed and said that it did not matter; Rome would rule you anyway, but they would do it alone.”

It took a lot for James to regain order and a lot more to convince everyone not to take up arms that night and march for Veralamium. A war council would be held in two days and until then the village was to mourn their loss.

“They were my father’s most trusted soldiers. People I thought would be here beside me to be my guides for years to come.” James said later, head in his hands in the sanctuary of his house. “And now they cannot even be buried in the proper ways.”

Sirius didn’t say anything. He just met Lily’s eye and knew that he should stay the night. 

“I think that it has to be war, Sirius.” James said now and he looked up at last, his eyes holding an apology within them. “And I’m so sorry for having to make you choose.”

Sirius just clutched at James’ shoulder, the same way it felt like he had been doing for his whole life. “It was never a choice.”

When he returned home for a change of clothes the next morning, his father stopped him the yard and placed a hand on his shoulder that felt as heavy as the whole world and said, “Please, son. Don’t do anything rash.

The wedding was held only five days later.

Sirius watched his brother marry the girl who had been chosen for Sirius and thought about how callous it was of his family to hold a wedding so soon after such a tragedy.

He thought about the time he was wasting that could have been spent preparing their army for the long march. He thought about how ridiculous it was that Remus wasn’t important enough to be invited to the wedding, but James was. He thought about how weak his younger brother was for marrying a girl he had never even met. He thought about how much he wanted to punch the father of his new sister-in-law right in the mouth.

“There seems to be some sort of hullabaloo happening among your barbarians.” He was saying pompously as one of the serving girls poured another glass of wine. “Nothing serious I hope?”

Sirius gritted his teeth.

“There was a small incident not long ago that upset them somewhat,” Sirius’ father answered easily, “but nothing to worry about.”

Sirius bit back the words on his tongue, trying to remember what Remus always said about causing unnecessary scenes. He could feel Regulus watching him from his position of honour and it was making Sirius’ hair stand on end. Why couldn’t he just focus on his new perfect Roman wife? Why couldn't Sirius at least be seated over by James? Why couldn’t Remus be here?

“I’m glad to hear it.” The man was saying now, taking a gulp of his wine. “So tell me, your eldest son, what does he do exactly? You said he was currently unable to take a wife. Why is that?”

“I’m a warrior.” Sirius said quickly, taking pleasure in cutting off his father’s carefully prepared response. “For the Atrebates, the barbarians you were talking about.”

“Surely not anymore?” His father said sharply, leaning forward to look at him intensely. “Not given the current situation?”

“Especially given the current situation.” Sirius replied with a smile designed to aggravate his father as much as possible. “We have a very important campaign to win.”

His father was out of his seat and dragging Sirius away from the table before he had time to realise what was happening.

“Sirius,” his father said urgently, shaking his shoulder a little painfully. “If you follow the tribe to war, if you make this choice, this family – ”

“I don’t give a fuck about this family! When are you going to finally understand that!” Sirius interrupted, shaking himself loose from his father’s grip and taking a step back. “You’re so blind to your own arrogance! Go give your little speech to someone who cares!”

“Sirius, you can’t – ”

“But I can!” Sirius snapped and it felt good to see his father’s face close off and harden, it was the reaction he had been waiting for. The one that would signal the end of the conversation. “I can do this and I will do this, and despite what you may think I _can_ destroy the Roman legions that are sent against me and I _will_!”

“I hope you know what you’re doing,” his father said after a pause, his tone clipped, “because this family will not be waiting here for you if you return.”

“Good.” Sirius said, and walked away. 

He found Remus out by the wheat fields and the other man seemed to know immediately exactly what had happened.

“Oh, Sirius,” he sighed when Sirius buried his face in his neck and refused to look at him.

“They don’t think I can do it. They never think I can do it.” Sirius whispered against Remus’ skin, soft and warm and his. “They don’t know. They don’t know.”

“It’s ok,” Remus said and let Sirius pull him in close. “It’s ok. But you know, Sirius, you don’t always have to be the storm…”

*

Remus had never had many people who loved him, but it felt like he had always had Sirius. His father had been a legionary, just passing through, and Remus’ mother had been left to fend for herself afterwards.

It was a lonely existence and one made harder by the distaste in which the villagers viewed his mother and her bastard son, but when Remus had met Sirius none of that had seemed to matter much anymore.

When his mother had passed away, it was Sirius who had taken the long walk with him to bury her remains far away in her mother’s lands where she had always wanted to return. 

And now with their lives falling into chaos around them, it was Sirius who lay beside him with soft breaths to his neck and dark hair against the pillow and Remus’ body wrapped in his arms.

And Remus knew that his life was perfect.

Eight days later they left with the army and Remus only wished that Sirius might have said goodbye to his family where they stood watching from the road with empty faces and empty hands. 

*

The first few weeks of the march were almost idyllic. Sirius rode at the front with James, when he wasn’t scouting ahead with Remus by his side. His mornings were spent discussing tactics in council, his nights spent with Remus by his side, hidden away in the tent Sirius was owed due to his position.

Their numbers had swollen due to Peter’s connections and the army was growing every day. They soon began a guerrilla operation against the Roman legions spread across the country, drawing them out, ruining their supply chains, laying the bait and always preparing for the day when the Roman Governor would ride out from his base to finally deal with them.

And then at night Sirius had Remus to return to in a place where they were not watched or questioned due to the demands of the campaign and where Sirius could take his time and make Remus gasp softly as the rest of the camp fell asleep around them.

Sirius almost wished that they could go on like this forever.

It was in the fourth week that Peter came to Sirius as he was making his way towards James’ tent for the morning council, and fell into step beside him.

“Sirius, I have bad news I’m afraid.” Sirius wasn’t surprised – Peter always knew everything first – but it didn’t stop his heart from speeding up a little and his head from whipping around. “It’s your brother. He’s joined the 9th legion.”

Sirius let out a bark of laughter, wiping his palms quickly against his shirt. “Typical,” he spat, but Peter looked at him with sympathetic eyes and later when the day was over and he had tucked his head beside Remus’ neck, he couldn’t help the image of Regulus bloodied and breathless and lying in the mud dressed all in Roman armour from making him shiver.

“Is this what he meant?” he asked softly, and Remus just watched him with those wise, caring eyes. “When he said I couldn’t withstand the storm, is this what he meant? Because he was wrong, you know. It won’t stop me. I _am_ the storm.”

And Remus smiled, but it was a sad smile.

*

Peter seemed to understand how much his news had affected Sirius as he took to keeping him company when he was in camp and Remus was busy elsewhere. It took Sirius back to those old days on the trip back from Ynys Mon when it had been the four of them against the world. Except this time they had an army and sometimes that thought made Sirius smile despite himself.

“This must be hard for Remus,” Peter said one day as they were overseeing the distribution of supplies at a new camp site. “To make this decision.”

“What do you mean?” Sirius replied distractedly, hauling a sack of flour onto a mule and sending it on its way.

Peter helped him to load the next and then they took a moment to sit in the shade and watch the living camp around them.

“I mean that he’s half Roman.” Peter continued, fanning his face with a hand. “He must have thought about what it would be like to take on the other cause. They’d accept him, you know. His life could be so much better for it and I applaud his loyalty, to us at least.”

Sirius turned to look at him with a raised eyebrow. “I’m full Roman you know?” He said with amusement, but Peter just snorted.

“Sirius, you have made it very clear from day one that you are anything but Roman. But Remus, you know, he’s always been able to see the other side. He understands them. I mean it’s like your family, you know? Remus is always defending them.”

“Not always,” Sirius said, but it was true that Remus was good at understanding people, or at least looking for the good in everyone. It was just another one of his admirable qualities and Sirius had to smile.

“I wonder if he’s ever thought about finding his father?” Peter mused absently, standing once more to load the next mule being brought forward from among the tents.

“I’ve never asked…” Sirius said, and hoped that Remus wasn’t feeling bad about having to choose. Sirius hadn’t even asked him and Remus had been comforting him when he woke from nightmares about having to kill Regulus for almost a week now.

Sirius sighed and wished that he wasn’t always so very selfish. He plucked a dead leaf from the ground and whispered to it softly, smiling as the colour seeped slowly back.

That night when they went to bed he pulled Remus close and breathed in the scent of his skin, listening to the other man’s heartbeat, loud in the silence of the tent.

“I’m going to visit my mother’s grave.” Remus said, letting Sirius play with his hair despite how much he always claimed that it annoyed him. “It’s only half a day’s ride from here and I’d like to.”

“Would you like me to come?” Sirius asked, twirling strands of copper brown between his fingers. “I can…”

“Best not.” Remus replied, sighing in a satisfied way and letting his eyelids drop closed. “James will need you here, now that we’re planning the ride east. And besides, I know you want to visit Ynys Mon…”

“Remus?” Sirius asked suddenly, sitting up on his elbows a little.

“Hmmm?”

“Have you ever wanted to find your father?”

“Sometimes,” Remus murmured, his voice heavy with sleep now. “But mostly not. Why would I want to find someone who abandoned my mother and I to go back to his fancy life? So…sometimes.”

*

Remus hadn’t expected to be accosted by a cloaked figure almost the moment he rode out of the hills surrounding the camp on his way to his mother’s cairn. He readied himself immediately for a fight only to be surprised once more.

“No, Remus. It’s me. It’s Regulus. I just need to talk.” The younger man sounded desperate and Remus lowered his weapon slowly, wary but unafraid.

“Please,” Regulus tried again, holding his hands up to show that he was unarmed and then pulling his pugio from its sheath and tossing it away to the side, as if to prove the point. “I need to talk, but not here.”

There was a reasonably sized town only a few hours ride away and Remus thought it far less incriminating for the both of them if they were found talking there. They made their way into a tavern and then sat across from one another, neither quite sure how to start.

“So you’re a legionary now?” Remus asked, trying to keep the accusation from his voice, but Regulus flinched all the same. “I’m sorry. I do understand, you know.”

“No, you don’t.” Regulus replied, looking up at him quickly and then leaning forward. “The Emperor? He’s crazy. I’m not exaggerating either. He has plans…they go beyond anything. They're sick, wrong. And the governor, Lucius? He’s completely caught up in it. It’s all…just wrong.”

“What do you mean?” Remus asked, feeling the fear rising within him, but trying to quell it all the same.

Regulus shook his head. “I can’t say it all here, it’s not safe. But I will tell you this, they’re setting a trap for you. I don’t know the details, but you have a traitor somewhere high up. Lucius knows your every move and he’s just waiting. You need to get the army to the south, wait out the winter. Don’t go east and attack. He’s expecting that.”

Remus nodded, looking pensive. “You can’t tell me more?”

“No, and you can’t tell the others. I don’t know who you can trust and…they’ll think I’m lying. Sirius will think I’m lying.”

Remus couldn’t argue with that even though he wanted to. “And the other things? What you haven’t told me?”

“I’ll come and find you again.” Regulus said, looking nervous now and standing to leave. “You’ll look after him, right? Sirius? He doesn’t normally let people look after him, but he lets you…”

Remus nodded. “I’ll look after him. Will you be safe?”

“I’ll be fine. I’ve found something and I don’t know what to do with it yet, but I’ll be fine…” And with that he swept out of the tavern and away.

*

Being back in that cave was like stepping into a dream. A reoccurring dream that sometimes became a nightmare.

Sirius didn’t know how he felt about the old man standing before him now that he was an adult. The fear was gone, but the awe was still there.

“You’ve returned.” The Druid said and Sirius nodded.

“We were nearby and James wanted to receive the blessing of the druid’s before heading East for the big push.”

“And what do you want?” The Druid asked and Sirius looked around the room at the tiny spun glass balls that surrounded him.

“I want my prophecy.”

The Druid said nothing and Sirius felt the hairs on the back of his neck bristle.

“It’s mine,” he said, anger seeping into his words though he wasn’t sure why. “ _My_ fate, and I want it. It’s mine to own and mine to control.”

The Druid nodded.

“If you want it, you can have it.” He flicked his hand and a tiny glowing ball came flying through the air, landing smoothly in his palm. “Here,” he said, holding it out for Sirius to take.

“I…Thank you.” Sirius murmured, not sure how to respond after having expected it to be much harder than that.

He clutched the sphere tightly in his palm and turned to leave.

“Oh, and Sirius?” The Druid called, a faint smile on his face. “I know you still practice the magic that Aberforth taught you, but not around your prophecy, do you understand? Fate is a delicate and temperamental thing.”

*

When Sirius arrived back in the camp with James and the others who had visited Ynys Mon, it was not Remus who was there to greet him as he expected, but Peter.

“Sirius,” the other man said, speaking in a soft but rushed tone and pulling him away from the others. “Sirius, where did Remus go today?”

“His mother’s grave,” Sirius replied, terror flooding his veins so quickly that he thought he might throw up. “What’s wrong? What’s happened to him?”

“No, nothing,” Peter said, holding out a hand as if to calm him and then stepping close. “He returned a few hours ago. It’s just this…I sent some of my men to Trimotare today to listen for news and they say Remus rode in around midday and he wasn’t alone. He spoke with another man for a good hour. The other man was a legionary.”

“That’s impossible,” Sirius said, knowing that for once Peter’s information was incorrect. “He went to his mother’s grave. He told me.”

“They told me that the legionary gave him something,” Peter pushed on and Sirius hated the way that he was looking at Sirius as though someone had died. As though he was breaking tragic news. As though Remus was a traitor. “A knife. A pugio. If there’s one among Remus’ things then we will know for certain that it was Remus who was there…”

“You want me to go through his things?” Sirius snapped, hating what Peter was insinuating and hating what it could mean and hating that none of it was really Peter’s fault.

“Sirius, it’s the only way to prove that my sources are correct. What if it wasn’t Remus? What if they identified the wrong man? I can’t have accusations like that being made about him. Do you understand that, Sirius?”

Sirius relaxed a little; Peter didn’t think it was true either then. “I’ll let you know,” he said shortly and turned towards the tent he shared with Remus. He wanted to laugh at the absurdity of it all, but all he could think about was why Remus hadn’t been there to meet him if he was already back in camp.

Remus was lying on their bedroll when Sirius entered the tent and the smile that graced his features when his eyes lit upon Sirius was almost enough to distract Sirius from the fact that the smile didn’t quite meet his eyes. Almost enough to distract him from the absent way that Remus was twisting his fingers into the material of his tunic. And Sirius felt his heart drop.

“How was Ynys Mon?” Remus asked, making no move to rise and any other day Sirius would have leapt at the opportunity to lick his way across those collarbones and feel those thighs wrap around his waist, but right then he suddenly _needed_ to know whether Peter was right. Whether Sirius had somehow been wrong this whole time.

“It was good,” he replied, walking towards Remus’ pack under the pretence of searching for a clean tunic and wondering whether Remus could sense the forced naturalness in his voice and actions the same way he had in Remus’. “I got my prophecy,” he added.

Remus smiled. “I’m glad.” And he rolled onto his back and covered his eyes with a hand.

Sirius ducked to the floor, and opened Remus’ pack, and right there, not even hidden away sat a pugio.

 _Remus’ pugio…_ his brain supplied helpfully but Remus didn’t have a pugio, had never had a pugio and Sirius’ veins were filling with ice.

“How was your visit?” He asked, his voice strained even to his own ears as he dropped the knife and walked away from Remus, towards his tunics hanging by the side of the tent where Remus wouldn’t be able to see his face.

 _If he went to town, he will tell me now._ He thought desperately. _He will tell me why_ …

“I was only there for a couple of hours,” Remus replied and Sirius could hear the effort he was putting in to sound relaxed. “But I had time to fix up the cairn.”

“That’s good,” Sirius said and the tears that he wiped from his cheeks were not ones that he could pretend away.

*

“You weren't there.” Sirius said harshly, glaring at James through lowered brows. “He lied, right to my face, and I could tell he was lying. I could tell!”

James looked away, his conflicting emotions obvious on his face. “But this is Remus. _Remus_. I just can’t….He wouldn’t….”

“I wish it weren’t true, James, but we have to face the facts. He meets with a legionary yesterday and then today Judoc’s men are attacked. That entire party, dead. If nothing else, we can’t trust him for now, James.”

“But why? He has no reason to betray us, none at all.”

“He does, James.” Sirius murmured, his anger fading because it honestly all hurt too much. “He was always an outsider in the village. Even with his training, he was never going to be respected. But his father is _Roman_. They could have promised him anything: a name, land, legitimacy? It could have been anything.”

James looked at Sirius as though he had lost his mind. “But this is Remus, Sirius. Since when has he ever been interested in any of that? You know he’s not. You know this. You know him.”

“I thought I did,” Sirius whispered and James just shook his head. 

“I won’t give up on him. Not yet,” he said and left the tent.

The next week was torture to Sirius. Remus was suggesting things in council when he had never spoken up before. Things that changed everything they had planned. Things that were spoken in a casual tone but through which Sirius could still hear a tinge of desperation and suddenly James began to look afraid.

There were four more attacks on supply chains and scouts, all only hours after Remus had returned from a hunt or a forage or another activity which gave him the opportunity to leave the camp and Peter began to look grim as his informers struggled to keep up with the leak from within.

And Remus began trying to talk Sirius into reconciling with his family, something he had never done with so much fervour before.

“You don’t _try_ to understand them,” Remus cried exasperatedly one evening when they would usually have already been in bed. “You never _try_!”

“No, but you spend an awful amount of time defending them,” Sirius bit back, “Why is that, huh? Why can you understand the Romans so very well, Remus?” He spat, throwing a little bit of caution to the wind and Remus just stared at him before stalking out into the night.

The arguments grew worse and their words harsher and yet Remus always returned eventually and Sirius could never quite stop himself from wrapping the other man up in his arms and kissing him in the darkness. Sometimes Sirius was just too angry and he knew he was being too rough when they had sex, but Remus didn’t ever complain and so Sirius didn’t ever quite stop.

“Sometimes,” Remus whispered one night, when Sirius had pulled him close and kissed his shoulder tenderly, “I wonder whether you only became my friend to upset your parents…”

“Perhaps I did,” Sirius said, but he didn’t stop kissing him and Remus didn’t pull away.

If this is what the Druid had meant by not being able to withstand the storm then, for the first time, Sirius felt that he might have been right.

“I am the storm,” he whispered into the night and it was only then that Remus drew back and moved to sleep on the cold ground rather than the bedroll they had shared throughout the entire campaign.

*

It was late autumn when Remus stood before the three of them and begged them to change their plans for a march east.

“This is all I’m asking,” He said, looking them each in the eye, “Just this one thing. Please, let’s go south for the winter and regroup, not east.”

They looked at one another and then James nodded. “OK. OK, Remus. You’ll have to take the scouting party out and check the way. I’ll need to know that it’s safe, that there’s somewhere we can take shelter, that there are tribes who will help us.”

“I can do that,” Remus said and for the first time in what felt like forever, a true smile lit his face. It just made Sirius Ill knowing what had put it there.

Remus said his goodbyes the next morning and whilst Lily and James hugged him close and wished him their best, though perhaps through eyes slightly more teary than were warranted, Sirius couldn’t bring himself to do more than exchange a terse hug with the man he had loved for the last six years. In that moment he could feel the storm all around him and as he watched Remus’ scouting party leave the camp he found himself chasing after them and gathering Remus into the tightest hug he could manage. “I love you,” he whispered and it was worth it to feel Remus’ smile against the skin of his neck.

They watched Remus go and then headed east.

*

How they had missed the ambush Sirius didn’t know.

The scouting party had searched the forest. It was an old forest, a friend to the tribes not to the Romans, and yet it had betrayed them.

In the chaos of the attack, as his comrades fell around him and the ground become damp with their blood, Sirius somehow found Lily’s cart, tipped on its side, the wheels smashed. Over to the side of it lay Lily herself, staring sightlessly at the sky above, and not far from her was the lifeless body of James, his sword still hanging from a limp hand.

But Harry was crying.

There was blood in his hair and blood on his face, but he was crying and that meant that he was alive. 

“Rubeus!” Sirius roared, turning in circles until he spotted the giant of a man, covered in gore but running towards him. “To Remus! The southern road!” He cried, holding the infant out and Rubeus understood because he ducked through the trees and was gone in an instant, leaving Sirius to mourn what the storm had created, what he had created. “I _am_ the storm,” he whispered and surrendered easily when Lucius descended upon him, Peter by his side.

*

“What is it?” Lucius drawled, holding the small glowing orb up in front of Sirius’ face and then further aloft where the crowded soldiers of the Roman camp who had gathered around them would be able to see it.

“It’s a prophecy,” Sirius replied, feeling truly calm for the first time in weeks, disarmed and with hands tied behind him. 

Lucius smirked as though humouring a small child, “And what does it say?” He prompted.

Sirius smiled back. “You cannot withstand the storm.” He said easily and Lucius laughed.

“An honest prophecy! Who knew such a thing existed?” The camp laughed with him and Sirius just smiled again. “Well you have learnt that lesson, now, haven’t you little barbarian Black?”

“Where is my brother?” Sirius asked and Lucius smiled again.

“Your brother was executed shortly after he was caught sneaking around with that stable boy friend of yours. A pity that all the Blacks turned out rotten in the end. And what now, my barbarian friend?”

“Now I will teach you a trick I learnt,” Sirius said, holding his bound hands out in front of him. “ _Vitae_.”

And the prophecy exploded.

*

The light was blinding and so powerful that it knocked them from their horses and onto the road below. Remus did not drop little Harry, but cradled him close and soothed his cries.

“The Roman camp,” Rubeus said, blinking rapidly and pointing ahead. “It wasn’ tha far from ere. Tha’s where tha light came from.”

Remus smiled through his tears and clutched Harry a little tighter.

“You _are_ the storm.”


End file.
